INTRODUCTION
+++From: General Alex McCallister, Kelnin, Governors Palace+++ +++To: General Andrew Eisenhower, Khitomer, Kelnite Guard Headquarters+++ +++Subject: Unknown+++ +++Sent: 020.M42+++ +++Priority 1+++ I send this message to you in haste...I have no real idea of what the situation is, I can't reach Chapter Master Icarus, or Librarian Moralitor. None of the Storm Marine units are answering us. We desperately need support. They're coming from the shadows, massive warriors, in grey armour. They bear Storm Marine heraldry, the survivors say, but I can't beleive it. Icarus would never betray the Imperium...would he? Is he even alive? Please, send help! The Kelnite 13th were holed up in Etrion Hive, we haven't heard from them in a day... We're desperate, send help, plea +++NOTES - Message sent incomplete by automatic mechanism. Reason unkown+++
He leaned back, listening to the rythmic sounds of artillery firing. He had seen them himself. Andrew Eisenhower was not a coward. He had barely survived the 13th Black Crusade, but he had done it. He had survived the decade long Heriosian Schism, in which he fought the very men he had led to victory in the defense of the Eye. It was only then, though, that he had seen the imperfection in the Storm Marine geneseed. Icarus had explained it all, but it still seemed unbeleivable. The venerable Chapter Master was dead now though...his armour, battered and cracked, hung behind Eisenhower's desk. Eisenhower had thought Icarus immortal, but he was proven wrong.
At least Icarus had remained loyal, and even fought his own men. Andrew had seen his friend shed tears for the first time, before being overborne by the Traitors and killed by Moralitor...
The artillery stopped, and the were battle cries from below in the Hive. Screaming and thundering explosions. Andrew stood, unholstered his pistol and walked out his office. As the door slid shut behind him, a single tear hit the floor...
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CHAPTER 1
The explosion rocked the nearby building, and several plates were detached from it's outer skin. An artillery shell smashed through a Munitorum factory down the street, and the windows on the opposite side smashed as fire poured from them. The blast threw the remnants of X1 squad out of their cover infront of the factory, their bodies landing hard and lying in all manner of unnatural positions. Lieutenant Francis Burns tripped as he ran to cover. A bolt exploded above his head, and a ringing persisted in his ears. Trooper Kell ran out to grab him, and disappeared in an explosion of blood, the red mist settling gently amongst the scattered bodies of men. Burns stumbled to his feet, and launched himself behind an artillery gun. He couldn't hear anything, just the ringing. '****,' he thought, dropping his las pistol. He snatched up a lasgun from the ground, and spun as he stood, to face the Traitor's position. Steadying himself on the tracks of the Basilisk, he fired the weapon until he had spent its power cell...only five shots. Panicing, he fumbled around in a pouch for a cell. Just as he pushed it up into the lasgun, he saw a giant shadow emerge from an alleyway adjacent to his position. Time seemed to slow, as the figure raised it's hand. It took a visible form, slowly. It's armour gleamed silver, hanging at it's side was a Space Marine's bolter. It looked up from it's crouched position, then fell on it's face, and it's hand lowered. Now a glow of light was visible from behind the figure, and power sword-armed officer stepped into the street. Burns stopped seeing abruptly.
Eisenhower turned to look in the direction the shot had came from. As he found it, he spun back into cover, and drew his laspistol. There was a series of crunches and thuds as on of the Traitors sprinted into the street towards the basilisk. Turning out of cover, Eisenhower fired three shots in quick succession, hitting the Traitor's armour twice. The third shot, however, managed to peirce the muzzle of the Traitor's bolter as he fired at a second Guard officer trying to give Burns medical attention. The bolter exploded, and blew off the arm of the Traitor, but not before another bolt had hit the second Guardsman and blew out his ribcage. Andrew holstered his pistol and ran over to the Traitor, drawing his power sword, and he swiftly decapitated him as he stood. Burns gargled a cry for help as Andrew turned away. He turned back, and walked over to the convulsing officer. He swiftly asked the Emperor to both give His blessing to Burns, and His forgiveness to him. He then made the sign of the aquila on Burns' chest, and quickly cut off Burns' head. He sat it gentle on the ground. "I am truly sorry," Eisenhower mumbled, before turning again and cautiously slipping into cover.
He pulled up his sleeve, and studies his damaged left arm. The mechanisms operating the wrist were damaged, but still functioning. Andrew Eisenhower had had two hi-tech mechanical arms since the Heriosian Schism, when both his organic arms were skinned and slowly torn apart as torture. He pulled down the sleeve, put on his glove and stood, sheathing Icarus', and now his, power sword. Slipping to the ground, he pulled out a chain from his shirt. The aquila...all they had found of Icarus bolter after Moralitor set the bolts inside aflame during the outbreak of the fighting...was on the end of it. It began to shine as the morning sun rose, despite all it had been through. Icarus had, like all of his weaponry and armour, polished it obsessively, as if it were part of his own body. Andrew had never understood the mannerisms of the late Marine. Indeed, he didn't understand much about the Chapter Master...despite having known him for such a long time.
He turned his gaze to the nearby body of a Traitor. It had become less of a shock seeing them, now. As far as the Guard HQ could figure, the 12th had only killed five Traitors...two of them killed by Eisenhower. He stood and stepped slowly over the body of the Storm Marine.